quête:into you

As trans-Atlantic alchemists pulling from a shared dialectic that somehow encompassed both postmodern deconstructionist tendencies and a delightfully subversive sense of poptimism, it’s easy to see how David Cunningham and Peter Gordon immediately hit it off upon initially meeting each other back in the late-1970s at the height of their youthful transgressions. Having initially worked together on the second Flying Lizards’ LP fourth wall, with its ingenious fusion of dismantled rhythms and rearranged melodies juxtaposed against the slyly sultry singing of Snatch’s Patti Palladin— with Gordon adding a few sprinkles of mischievous sax in the mix— it’s no wonder the collaboration would lead to further musical adventures.

Which leads us directly to the genesis of The Yellow Box. Embarking on a collaborative exercise in the structural repurposing of music as untethered puzzle pieces in need of rearrangement with no predetermined outcomes, the duo gave birth to a project that would see them move through both time and recording studios across Europe, taking nearly two years from 1981-1983 to complete. Enlisting the great Anton Fier on drums from The Feelies/Lounge Lizards nexus and John Greaves on bass from Henry Cow/Soft Heap lore to round out their dueling creative counterparts, the album would be something of a lost treasure until its eventual release on Cunningham’s Piano imprint in 1996.

Cinematic in scope, and filled with drifting drones, beautiful counter-melodies, eery minimalism, Kraftwerkian synthesizers, looped voices, skronky interludes, and other shifting undercurrents of sound, it was an album that utilized both a diverse array of expressive languages, as well as early sampling techniques and prepared instruments, well before most people were thinking in such expansive, integrated terms at the dawn of the 80’s. But such is life at the vanguard of new music. And one of the reasons that it likely sat on the shelf for so long before finally being released well over a decade later. Like a sparser, less groove-oriented version of My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, or a more radical take on the experimental work of Can’s Holger Czukay, The Yellow Box stands at the crossroads of time and technology, fusing multiple strands of musical thought and compositional techniques into a disjointed whole that somehow still comes off as a conceptually complete record.

Now, here it is again, over 40 years later, with perhaps even more historical resonance than it had before, remade and remodeled just waiting to be rediscovered again.

SHDW presents 'Federation Of Rytm IV': a bumper 30-track collection spanning the past, present, and future of techno.

Offering powerful standalone club cuts and a cohesive deep-dive, the expansive VA lands on 24th October 2025.

The fourth edition of SHDW's flagship 'Federation Of Rytm' VA series has been carefully curated by the DJ/ producer and head honcho over more than a year, with close attention to detail given to sequencing. It is a balance of label regulars and debutants that represents the past, present, and future, both sonically and through the generational diversity of the artists involved. There are plenty of surprises along the way while always remaining true to the Mutual Rytm ethos and reflecting the journey of the night from start to finish, whether that's in intimate, sweaty clubs or on big festival stages.

Across 30 tracks in the digital collection and 24 on four sides of wax, the release explores the full breadth of the Mutual Rytm sound. Driving grooves and relentless percussion set the pace, gradually unfolding into hypnotic and atmospheric passages that invite deeper immersion. Pulsating low-end power alternates with eerie minimalism, while bursts of futuristic energy and cavernous kick drums keep the tension high. Elsewhere, dub textures and moments of introspection provide balance, creating a narrative arc that moves fluidly between intensity and release, atmosphere and tension, darkness and light.

When Straight Ahead hit the shelves in 1974, it marked another bold chapter for Brian Auger"s Oblivion Express. The band - Steve Ferrone on drums, Barry Dean on bass, Jack Mills on guitar, and Lennox Langton on congas - was firing on all cylinders, pushing jazz fusion into fresh, uncharted territory. Critics took notice, with Billboard praising the album as "excellent in development and inventiveness", and it found its way onto multiple charts at once.

Westerman’s 3rd album, A Jackal’s Wedding, became a document of leaving and arriving, ongoing transformation, and the liminal spaces between shadows and the lights that cast them. The collaboration with producer Marta Salogni (who mastered An Inbuilt Fault) created a woozy and dreamier work than the 2 previous Westerman albums. Recorded in a 17th century mansion, converted into an art space on the island of Hydra; the album reflects the chaos and limits of the space and uses it as a collaborator.

For the first time ever, the only full-length album by Spanish soul and garage legends Z-66 is being reissued. Z-66's signature blend of powerful soul, psychedelia, and pop-clearly influenced by bands like The Move, Stones, Vanilla Fudge, and Blood, Sweat & Tears delivers a bold, modern sound that remains fresh and compelling. Unlike other Spanish bands of the time, Los Z-66 enjoyed unique conditions that allowed their sound to stand out as one of the most advanced on the local scene in the late 1960s. As was the case with many other groups, their repertoire for entertaining discotheques had to include the hits of the moment and was not always open to the songs of the most daring international bands, which was the sound that most stimulated the musicians. In the case of Los Z-66, being based in Mallorca meant they had privileged access to hard to-find records, imported by foreign tourists, and to a much more modern atmosphere than in other parts of the country. Songs in Italian and French soon gave way to English hits by the Animals, the Stones, and the Beatles. But it was the offer received from Mike Jeffries, manager of Jimi Hendrix, the Animals, and others, to serve as the house band at the newly opened club Sgt. Pepper's that allowed the group to raise their live performances to a level rarely seen in these parts... They even soon incorporated the distorted sound of fuzz into their guitar when they received a fuzz face pedal as a gift from Jimi Hendrix himself, who was invited to play at the club's opening! Their excellent blend of stunning soul, psychedelia, and pop became their hallmark, not only in the band's concerts but also in the handful of singles and EPs they released on the Regal label. We are now re-releasing for the first time their only full-length album, originally published in 1969, which is actually a compilation of songs previously released in 45 rpm format, complete with two bonus tracks not included on the original LP plus a booklet with liner notes and rare photos.

Dutch artist Sander van der Toorn returns to Kit Records, following his much-loved work with analogue-decayed folk duo Love is Yes, in 2024. While Sander's signature haze of tape-smeared synthesis and motorik guitar is ever present, "kom-kom" represents a departure from the elysian warmth of Love's debut.

The industrial throb of tracks like 'FIVE' and 'Rainhum' bear the deconstructed hallmarks of krautrock pioneers Neu!, and even the dystopic glow of artists like Plastikman or Pole. When kom-kom's harmonic ambitions resurface, such as on the synapse-aching 'Dwarsdoor', or the glassy structures of 'Hazenhart', the effect is startling.

van der Toorn cites the inspiration of Morton Feldman and Sarah Davachi when describing his work less as a linear listening experience, more a collection of sculptures that can be viewed from different angles. In this way, kom-kom doesn't have to move forward; the encounter can be one of stillness, of static objects given movement by the beholder's shifting perspective.

Sounds like: John Fahey being stretched into infinitely long pieces of spaghetti.
Recommended if you like: intercontinental rail travel, Mark Fisher, a nice malbec.

Limited edition of 100 cassettes, with risograph printed artwork.

In 1964, Martin Denny looked beyond the Hawaiian and Asian influences of his previous records to find another place to plant his umbrella in the sand, as well as in your drink: the sounds of Latin America. With this new sound to hang his exciting arrangements on, Latin Village has long been considered one of Denny's high-water marks, and Jackpot is thrilled to have this long-cherished LP back in print. This is an album that rips through what was considered "The Now Sound From Overseas," a sophisticated mash-up of sambas, bossa novas, and Latin jazz. From the first track, "Angelito" (the hit song written by Réne y Réne, later to also be covered by Trini Lopez & Herb Albert), all the way through to its closer, "Flying Down To Rio" (a song which Roxy Music later referenced in their 1972 song "Virginia Plain”), the album is a hypnotic listen. Latin Village also drops in some serious jazz numbers, with respected compositions such as "On Green Dolphin Street" by Kaper & Washington (which has been covered by Miles Davis, Bill Evans & Sarah Vaughn), "Malagueña" the sixth movement in Ernesto Lecona's Suite Andalucía & "Corcovado" by Antônio Carlos Jobim (who merged samba with jazz to create bossa nova). Latin Village is comforting in its familiarity within Denny's sonic world, but steps refreshingly out of the smoke-filled Tiki bars of his previous records and straight into the sunlight where this music still strolls around in a listener's heart, soul, and mind. “Latin Village is a triumph of Martin Denny’s search for a new style, post-exotica.” – ALLMUSIC, 4 stars.

Westerman’s 3rd album, A Jackal’s Wedding, became a document of leaving and arriving, ongoing transformation, and the liminal spaces between shadows and the lights that cast them. The collaboration with producer Marta Salogni (who mastered An Inbuilt Fault) created a woozy and dreamier work than the 2 previous Westerman albums. Recorded in a 17th century mansion, converted into an art space on the island of Hydra; the album reflects the chaos and limits of the space and uses it as a collaborator.

The third drop into the Poorly Knit ocean, sees Bruce washed ashore with three silted and barnacled explorations into dub techno, ambient and beyond.

Seizing the microphone for the first time since his sophomore album Not Ready For Love, Bruce weaves a seductive siren song with Golden Water Queen, treading sweet nothings into the bubbling abyss. Sinking further into the deep, The Hand fizzes and froths at the fringes of nothingness, born from the wishing of a softer and more insidious soundtrack to Denis Villeneuve’s Dune. Then finally the waves are parted with DHam’s Jam, bobbing along 8 minutes of bouncing kick and prancing percussion, pulling you with peaceful buoyancy along the dancefloor, into “the zone.”

With a continued emphasis on the importance of physical medium within dance music, the 12” is pressed with eco-friendly “Eco-Mix” reground PVC and sleeved in DIY lino printed sleeves.

Acclaimed electronic musicians, producers and sound architects Max Cooper and Rob Clouth team up for a new collaborative EP; a dark, playful four-track dive into ambient, breakbeat and techno’s subconscious flow, featuring a standout vocal performance from South London rapper FLOHIO.

Recorded over a series of spontaneous London sessions, “8 Billion Realities” channels years of creative exchange between two of the genre’s most quietly innovative artists and is a result of a decision between the longtime friends to refrain from conceptual overthinking in favour of instinct and joy.

As long-time admirers of each other’s audio/visual work, Cooper and Clouth collaborated in London together after both emerging from intense, idea-heavy album cycles. What followed was a series of exploratory sessions, half-improvised, half-built around half-formed thoughts.

The result is a club-ready EP that feels alive and human: imperfect and hypnotically rich.

“Rob Clouth has been one of my favourite electronic music producers since I first heard his work in 2011,” says Cooper. “His work is more full of ideas and structure than anyone else.” “We were both coming from extensive conceptual studio albums and both in the mood for simplifying things and having some fun with the music, so that’s what we did”.

For Clouth, no stranger to Max Coopers Mesh label having previously released an array of EP’s plus his 2020 debut album “Zero Point” this record marks a new chapter, both creatively and personally.“Something pretty new for me is collaborating,” he says. “You kind of have to when to stop, because if you develop an idea all the way to its endpoint, the other person has nowhere to jump in.”

The first “A Moment Set Aside” began as a break from another idea, a live, unplanned improvisation based around arps and ambience. “The track was written in about as long as it took to play it,” says Cooper. “It was pulled from a 1 hour recording session, more or less as you hear it… the energy and excitement grew as the unplanned moment bore some magic.”

“The lesson being that sometimes it’s helpful to set aside a moment without forcing results, and let the subconscious have something to say.” What followed was darker, heavier. “Asymptote” is detuned techno. Subversive and euphoric in its descent. “We found a sort of brain mangling, half consonant, half wandering detuned techno pulse, which we started chatting about being a sort of pit of spiralling body parts we were falling into,” says Cooper. “It was a lot of fun to work on and let loose with bigger kicks than I usually ever get to unleash.”

Then came “8 Billion Realities”, featuring a standout rap performance from FLOHIO; an emerging figure in the UK grime and rap scene. The track was inspired by conversations about algorithmic echo chambers and hyper-personalised online worlds. Frantic, direct, and South London to the core, FLOHIO brings this tension to life. Her sharp, intense flow cuts through distortion and rhythm, landing the track somewhere between chaos and control instantly making it one of the most striking moments in either artist’s catalogue. “A different reality for all 8 billion of us,” says Cooper. “We weren’t sure if it would work… but there was something about the energy of the percussive idea and the story which felt like it might fit.” “Then FLOHIO had a play with it and straight off the bat absolutely killed it, not just with the lyrics and energy, but the harmonising too, it was a beautiful process.”

The final piece on the EP “Candeleda” originated from Clouth’s solo experiments with a live rig made entirely of vocals and keys, using his self-developed “cheatbox” system. “He put forward a beautiful stumbling melodic sequence which we bounced back and forth adding harmonies and synth layers,” says Cooper. “It rounds off a collection covering some of the breadth of music that we both love.”

A hiatus is nothing but the reconsideration of fundamental values and interests.

Simple Times is back with “A Thin Line Between Dreams & Nightmares” EP, an emotional deep dive into the world of Progressive Trance, House & Electro. Aiming to follow the principles of stereo and raw, uncompressed music, this EP offers a fresh take on vintage music and the early culture of raves, dancing, and dance music.

The word "amateur" originates from the Latin word "amator," meaning "lover" or "admirer". This Latin term is derived from "amare," which means "to love". The French adopted "amateur" from Latin, and the English then borrowed it from French, initially retaining the sense of someone who loves or is devoted to something. Over time, the English usage of "amateur" also developed a meaning related to a lack of professional skill or experience. How did a word derived from love become a slur? Is love really so defenseless? They say love conquers all, but in reality isn’t love quite ridiculous? It has no intention, no motive, no agenda. How could it possibly prevail? It can’t be bought or sold, or so they say.Its mere existence can't be proven or even measured. What an impossible thing. Trying and failing, time and time again, no wonder cynicism always seems to win. I see “amateurism” as a delighted, even foolish, protest. Protest against everything. Of what’s expected of someone, or expected of someone to desire or strive for. To be elite, to be expert, to be professional, to be a master, to excel and succeed. Where’s the joy in that? I just want to have fun. I want to want. I want to love. And keep doing it, forever. I want to have fun, even when it’s tiring and sometimes even heaven is boring as hell. I want to be bad. I want to do my own thing. “I vant to be alone”. I want to be someone so dedicated to their passion that it starts to seem like there’s something wrong with them. All the way. We can take it all the way, and never get it back. ” - Molly Nilsson Amateur is the 12th studio album by Molly Nilsson. Deep in the teeth of a career that threatens to tip into something resembling a “legacy,” Molly Nilsson celebrates with an album recorded instinctively, quickly and bursting with so many moments of emotional brilliance and clarity it may be her greatest yet. Hers has been a career spent reaching out, perennially powerful in her earnestness, a warrior ridiculously defenceless and armed with a glittering sincerity. Shearing herself of the machinations of the music industry, recording at home, writing direct to the heart. Amateur is a jubilee for losers. A treatise in 13 songs, Amateur states clearly that we should live our life with eternal curiosity, offers us an open hand of comradeship out of the rat race. The songs on the album are both some of the most personal of Nilsson’s career and the most anthemic. First single How Much Is The World asks us to re-evaluate value in the face of a Neo-liberal system squeezing the life out of our loves. Pulsing opener Die Cry Lie satirises the commercialisation of emotion in the form of a shout-along diss-track. With a pounding rhythm track held down by gorgeous chord changes, heartbreaker Valhalla carries the torch for the main themes of the album: never growing up, making mistakes with kindness, moving on. When the drums crash in on the line “It’s going to get better now, you’ll see, going to be much better off without me” there is a world of feeling swirling about in the vocal delivery. One reading of the track might be that it’s a break up song but the subtext is classic Molly Nilsson: by living truthfully, making mistakes, we’re active agents against the myriad oppressions of the world. All The Way takes the theme for a run into the eternal sunset. It’s a manifesto for living fully. “Take it all the way, and never get it back” - it’s the process that’s the important point. The journey not the destination. Big Life, follows on like a part 2: An ode not only to Molly Nilsson’s career of endless gigs, endless connections with people, it’s a massive ode for following your dreams, doing it yourself. Closer The Bitter End is a powerful anthem for friendship, another definition of love infused in Nilsson’s work, A beautifully poignant ode to comradeship til the end, it seems to be the songwriter approaching aging, approaching life’s inevitability with the same vigour and earnestness, the same love of life she enjoyed at the onset of her career. There are moments on Amateur shrouded in reverb, slightly out of focus, forcing the listener to step deeper into the Mollyverse.. Nilsson’s open-armed beseeching to the world permeates every beat, every chord. These are songs exploding with life: the chunky, aggressive bassline on the punker Get A Life can’t hide its massive, catchy chorus. The sweeping Swedish Nightmare might be a tongue-in-cheek self-reference, but at its heart it’s a song about the duality of living life large, what is a dream, what is a nightmare? Molly Nilsson says you can’t have one without the other, and why would you want to? Here’s to making mistakes.

In May, fans were treated to the first new music from Trentemøller since 2022. A new single, "A Different Light," showcased a stunning blend of prismatic space rock and folk. For anyone wondering if it foreshadowed the release of a full-length, Dreamweaver will drop in September, on Friday the 13th.
Featuring 10 tracks that traverse Trentemøller's many musical strengths, Dreamweaver also represents an obvious artistic leap, treading new ground while retaining the overall plot. Tracks featuring vocals come courtesy of of Iceland's Disa, who has been in Trentemøller's fold since the Memoria tour.
Dreamweaver's nylon string-led opening track, and first single from the album, "A Different Light," contains many of Trentemøller's trademarks: exploring dichotomies, musical shadowplay, Nordic frigidity, and warm waves. It opens the door for the steady, hypnotic "Nightfall," with its tetherless vocal, wistful guitars, and early morning desert chill. The third track in the opening trifecta, "Dreamweavers" finds its footing with a percussive soft trot, which starts after what feels like a shortwave radio scan in search of the right chords, eventually dialing in a weightless voice. Ostensibly keeping a ruminative pace with the previous two tracks, the song and, by extension, album soon opens up as the rest of the elements drop into place with a grand, luxurious burst.
Dreamweaver is about to enter its next phase. With the hatch blown off of the portal, the noisy "I Give My Tears," driven by its glissed and fuzzy bass line, pours into the void. It's followed by its sibling, the most chaotic track on Dreamweaver, "Behind My Eyes." Arriving as a piece of noise rock pandemonium, "Behind My Eyes," can't be contained in its plush vault. A whip-crack snare and convulsing guitars smash against each other in the song's verse chamber. The tension builds, as the particles collide, pushing past the point of critical mass, kicking off the chain reaction which is the chorus. At times it harkens back to the proto-gaze tracks that gave birth to dream pop, at others it newly defines what that is. There's no time to contemplate it, though, as the song disintegrates in a microphonic feedback instant.
A respite follows with the somnambulistic pair of "Hollow" and "Empty Beaches." Then, a moment of intensity returns as the soaring textures and tribal drum bursts of "In A Storm" take control, before being taken out with the ambient slo-core of "Winter's Ghost" and "Closure." This diptych wraps up an album which certainly feels on-script for Trentemøller, but is also much more psychedelic than previous offerings.
Dreamweaver will be released on Trentemøller's own In My Room label. It is an exceedingly immersive experience, bound to release any dormant hallucinations you may be harboring.

Downwards present Alexander Tucker in metamorphosis from psych folk to techgnostic bard, aided by notable guests – Justin K Broadrick, Regis, Phew, Karl D’Silva, JJOWDY, and Elvin Brandhi – in a quest for disordered convention and new thrills. One up to Tucker’s outings for Alter and The Tapeworm, and spiritual successor to his »Nonexistant« trio on Downwards, »Clear Vortex Chamber« is an enigmatic take on the brownfield edgelands where the eldritch intersects electronic heck. Decades of work spread between hardcore punk, psych rock, folk, and drone — including work with Stephen O’Malley (Ginnungap) and Neil Campbell (Astral Social Club, ESP Kinetic) — feed forward into this album’s unsteady machine rhythms and cranky junkyard atonalities, where Tucker panel-beats aspects of his previous sound with a newfound industrial thrust and cyber-punky lust that suits him dead well.

A crafty example of how to mutate without losing sight of yourself, the album’s eight parts feel like a cyborg patching itself into modernity. On opener »Udug« Tucker’s signature falsetto peals from a A Scanner Darkly-style scramble suit of stereo-strobing electronics, setting a melodramatic, neo-gothic tension that riddles the album thru the knotted, fractured industrial dancehall bullishness of »Mallets« with Yeah You’s feral gob Elvin Brandhi, via a pair of standout »Fedbck« parts with Tucker’s personal idol, Justin K Broadrick (Godflesh, Jesu, and the rest), featuring the Brum deity’s claw-handed riffs and howl on the first, and smeared with Karl D’Silva’s brass in its noctilucent second part.

Regis also proves a staunch foil for the album’s most robust, club-ready cut »Zona«, hammered out from buzzing metallic drums and monotone bass drones, and pitting his severed vox against Tucker’s own androgynous harmonies to recall aspects of The Ephemeron Loop via British Murder Boys, whilst scene legend, Can and Ryuichi Sakamoto spar Phew (aka Aunt Sally) ideally tempers the flow in a relatively soothing »Sansu«, sharing more cyber-romantic, recombinant sentiments with the channelling of Robert Wyatt gone Funk Bruxaria on »Folded«.

In between the folds of ceremony and commonality lies a perennial spring of musical expression.

A statement along the time continuum, or a testament to the resilient resourcefulness embedded in that truth, forms the philosophical approach of this album – the first outing of Dídac.
Studying an extensive archive of instruments, artifacts, and field recordings at the Musée d’ethnographie de Genève—a space steeped in folkloric gesture – Dídac encountered a cosmos of liturgical music and folk song. Anchored in reverance for tradition and transformation alike, this album navigates the old-world Mediterranean lore through a post-modern ambient lens, threading drone, gentle rhythm, electroacoustic textures and the crude tactility of archival material into one woven tapestry.

Under the guidance of Dr. Madeleine Leclair, Dídac was invited to work within one of the world’s most extensive ethno- musicological archives—L’AIMP. In the saturated basements and tape-lined backrooms of the museum, he submerged himself in the sounds of ritual and rural life: wax cylinders from the Eastern Mediterranean, tapes of liturgical hymn, the worn edges of communal song.
In a makeshift studio on the fourth floor of the museum, he sifted through the hours of material he collected, gradually discovering that the archive was no static source – It did not dictate; rather, it served as a companion—offering not answers, but questions. Not a beaten track, but a cluster of sonic clues and riddles. Samples do appear occasionally, tenderly interwoven into the dialogue of the songs. In Dídac’s self-titled debut, the past is not worn as ornament or kitsch; it is listened to and responded to. The museum, its archives, and the visit to Geneva became a foundational culisse of sorts, igniting a myriad of rough cuts and improvisational outtakes.
Dídac, or Diego Ocejo Muñoz, was born in Madrid in 1994 to a family of both Catalan and Castilian origin.

Brought up in a religious household, the influence of the Catholic Church innately shaped the social fabric, schooling and daily life. This lingering dominance led the adolescent Diego into a path of rejection of everything sacramental, promptly resorting to subversion in the shape of grafitti, skateboarding and underground music. Only later in life, after a rigorous venture as an acid and electro producer, the Church re-emerged before him in new light, invoking a deep fascination for its mysticism, iconography and choral tradition.

Spain in general and Catalonia in particular, has long served as a crossroads of the eastern–western Mediterranean continuum, with many of its cultures sharing aspects of way of life and ceremony. At the MEG, Diego found himself puzzled with this realization, resulting in a sonic amalgamation that reaches farther away from the rugged mountains of Catalonia than you might perceive at first encounter.

The deeply embedded memory of rite and public ceremony, religious hymn and landscape—sieved through the undercurrent of personal re-emergence, forms the emotional topography of this album. The record does not trace this landscape; it inhabits it. Its repetitive mysticism and ambient, wide-eyed gaze could possibly evoke (perhaps redundant) comparisons to artists such as Dimitris Petsetakis, or Popol Vuh’s late 70’s cinema scores.
The delicate lines between the sacred and the secular – between memory and re-invention – serve as a cipher to understanding this album in its entirety. Titles like Malpàs Mines or Pantocrator’s Portal Outro nudge toward a folkloric and devotional bedrock—places where labor and spirituality coexist, where names preserve both dust and veneration.

Nevertheless, this is far from mere nostalgia. It is a reclamation — singing alongside the spirits of the past, nurturing what still hums beneath the soil. It is an intimate reflection on tradition, rebellion, adolescence, ceremony and fantasy – a pastoral contemplation on what once was and what is to be.

oDYSea is back for its second release with the much-awaited debut EP of Penelope, featuring four compelling club tracks brimming with power and grace.

Opener ‘Unexpected Dreams’ surges with muscular basslines and acid liquidity, while ‘Usual Suspects’ adds crashing breaks into the mix.

On the B-side, ‘Strange World’ steps into outer space with a broken beat, alien foghorn motif and big synth riffs, before the electro-house groove of ‘Flow’ sends us home with a funky bang. A hypnotic blend of techno pulse and delicate breaks, ready to take you on a full dance floor immersion.

Zonate presents its fifth release, The Roots EP, uniting four tracks from three exciting new voices in the scene. The A1 comes from Guzman with Final Point - a grooving electro cut that builds patiently before unleashing a roaring drop in the second half. Bassy Bee follows with Will Not Hurt You - dark and evolving, driven by growling low-ends and self- recorded vocals. The flip side is all Gaston Cabrera. On B1, Persiguiendo Pesadillas is propelled by a defining arp that touches into prog-trance territory. Closing with B2, A La Luz De Las Velas, Cabrera returns to his South American–infused sound - hypnotic, driving techno / prog.

CENTRAL's new release is already here! On the B-Side, DJ KAWASAKI has edited the extra-hit “Samurai” to make it an even hotter dance track!
Both sides of the album are perfect for the field!

CENTRAL, a salsa band that has suddenly gained attention after releasing two singles and a full-length album last year, but is actually a group of seasoned salsa veterans, has already released a new single! This time around, CENTRAL has released a cover of “Brazilian Rhyme,” one of Earth, Wind & Fire's many classic songs that still remains a dance floor favorite, with a Latin arrangement that is full of CENTRAL's signature style. The groovy bass, shimmering electric piano, percussion, and outstanding horn arrangement make you want to dance and scream, “This is CENTRAL! The B-Side features DJ KAWASAKI's edit of “Samurai,” a definitive mellow salsa track that has now become a WANT-requested item from all over the world, sublimated into an even hotter dance track!

This summer, dance hard to CENTRAL's salsa!

Barac and Alex Font deliver a mesmerizing 2x12" – four deep, transcendent tracks that blur the lines between rhythm and ritual. This is music carved from emotion and space, where minimalism meets soul, and every detail breathes intention. The sonic quality is exceptional – raw yet refined, warm yet weightless. A meditative pulse runs through it all, inviting the listener inward.
Each cut is a journey, crafted with precision and soul, rich in atmosphere and unmistakable in identity. This collaboration isn't just a meeting of minds – it’s a shared vision, etched into wax. A record that doesn’t shout, but resonates. Timeless and essential. Almost 30 min Playtime, 180g 2x12inch, Fullcover print.